


One Cold Christmas Eve

by SKitchune



Series: DenAme/AmeDen Late RP Week Challenge and Christmas Specials!! [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1950s, A century of personal history between the both of them, Alfred's feeling are not explicit, Bad news from Alfred, Christmas Eve, Comfort and hurt, Dark Past, First Christmas Together, Human friends/family, Important mortals in Alfred's life, M/M, Matthias teaches Alfred a valuable lesson, Matthias wants to DTR, Much backstory only briefly mentioned, Sad yet hopeful, WTF?! the ony one that doesn't have sex, implied mutual pining, no relationship yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKitchune/pseuds/SKitchune
Summary: Part 8 of 8! History (no smut)! Alfred and Matthias have more than a century of personal history, a friendship formed with little to no intervention from politics and trade. Matthias spends the Holidays for the first time with Alfred, who has some bad news and desperately needs a friend in this trying time. The Dane now has to juggle between comforting his friend while trying to figure out what he feels for the man.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time in ao3 but I'm quite old in the fandom!! Hope to start posting works here quite often!!
> 
> This is a very late birthday and Christmas present to one of my friends! Sorry it took so long, college happened.
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
> Comment. Suggest. Follow.

_December 24, 1957_

_7:03 pm_

_Matthias flattens the front of his velvety black trench coat with his leather-gloved hand. He was holding a box of ham and wine. It was snowing out, amicably, perfectly in the night lit by a few lamp posts and the distant of strings of light from the city's bustling heart._

_Christmas was warm and understated, if he has to put words on it. It was interesting...seeing relatively identical houses with large window seats by their living areas. Each giving their own tableau of families and friends spending their Christmas Eve. The street was wide, long and empty. Everybody was inside their large suburban houses, lit meekly and happily with bustling families inside talking and relaxing by the fire place._

_He then goes to the barely lit house, third to the last. The only one that was a little different with a large porch in front and an old, comfy swing. He laughs a note when he sees that the pots that were usually for small flowering annuals was replaced by small evergreens. Barely grown._

_He knocks the door and waits patiently, box in hand and a little more merry than he wants to admit. His heart was fluttery and jittery and his knees were a little unsteady and he didn't know why._

_He fixes the lapels of his coat and then looks at the time. He_ _was admittedly early by ten minutes, but his host was seldom late to anything as well. He tugs on his rich, red scarf and starts to feel a little antsy._

_When there was no no answer, he decided to knock on it again. Another minute goes by and he was about to resort on letting himself in with the spare key under the large seating cushion of the swing when a motorcycle pulls over and he smirks, knowing who it was the moment he saw that aviator jacket with its aged leather look and dirty cream trim from the light overhead._

_It looks almost scenic as the man removes his helmet and shows his stupidly handsome face. Matthias walks down to greet his host._ Ya haven't aged a day, _he wants to smartly tease but holds his tongue when he sees pure joy flash the younger man's face._

_"Matthias!" Alfred hops off his motorcycle and pulls the lower end of his jacket and pats down his khaki pants. He doesn't break eye contact as he pulls out bags from his satchel. They looked heavy but Al was sturdy, they both were, but Matthias obligates himself to carrying the other bag he had yet to grab._

_The American was going to snap something to him but instead smiles, shakes his head fondly._

_"Al." Matthias finally acknowledges. "How're things?"_

_"Didn't you get my letter yet?" Alfred started._

_"Yes. It says that we have a lot to talk about, diplomatic matters aside." Matthias says with a gleam of mischief._

_"Yeah, diplomacy." Alfred laughs a little but he sobers. "You know, we have...such a weird situation..." he sounds like that wasn't the word he wished to use._

_"True." But Matthias understands it clearly. "Our countries don't have much history together...but, I guess, over a century of personal history makes up our...situation."_

_"Yeah, know we're having Christmas in my house." Alfred starts walking and Matthias swears he saw a blush and that makes his cheeks a little rosier._

_What was happening to him? What were they? Why did it matter so much for him to know what they were? Why did Alfred matter to him this much?_

_Don't get him wrong. Alfred was the only one who didn't turn away seeing him in shambles. Memories marred by blood and darkness, humanity shredded into pieces, leaving only vile thoughts, pain, and desolation. He didn't blame his family and friends for not being the ones to bring him out of darkness. He couldn't. They were overcome with too much emotion, remembering the centuries before the world went to hell._

_A new face, someone who had nothing to do with him, would've been better._

_Now, he was in the clear. Memories back, body not aching, smile easy on his face again. And with his emotions back in full, waves upon waves just come crashing down on him and the strongest came from thinking about Al._

_Sometimes frustrated. Other times annoyed. Yet, he usually felt fondness. At times, even more, but what is 'more?'_

_"I trust that your flight was smooth?" Alfred asks as he lays the bags of goods on the kitchen counter. Matthias had the decency to switch the lights for him._

_"I've been better. Ya know how much I hate flying." Mat answers plainly as his eyes sweep the living area. A mix of leather sofas and plush pillows, deep brown wooden floor clashes with the slick red and white tiles of the kitchen, Victorian-styled carpets and draperies, frames of medals and rusted scraps of metal ranging from gun shells and helmets, pieces of fine baroque art by the fireplace with large paintings of mountainous tree lines._

_With the bar counter as the divider between the realms of the kitchen and the living room, it feels like looking at two different worlds. One unapologetically modern and one obscenely, almost blasphemously classic—sentimentality was one thing most people pegged the rising power, America, to not be. But Matthias knew better. He only sees a kindred, old soul not afraid to change, but absolutely not always welcoming it._

_"Where's Eleanor? Michael?" He asks of his bright and cheery house staff that even Matthias had grown to care for like children despite the wrinkles beside their eyes and the silver streaks that crown their temples like laurels of triumph._

_He remembers getting greeting cards from them in the mail every time the holidays rolled in. Alfred always behind the sofa with Michael and Eleanor with their five kids and her aging mother, happy and festive with fried chicken and biscuits on the table—a subtle temptation to get the Dane to spend the holidays with them._

_"Not gonna spend the holidays with me tonight. They couldn't bring Mama Claire along." Alfred sighs like he had more sad news to bring. Matthias stops setting down the bottles of fine wine Alfred bought and listened._

_"Claire...Claire had a stroke last week." It felt like in that moment, both their hearts sank. "She's fine now." Alfred quickly adds, but then proceeds to fall flat, rubbing his nape in concern._

_This was what he wanted to talk about._

_Something bites Matthias and it was not just knowing that the bright and bubbly old woman from New Orleans did a jive with the grim reaper. Alfred looked like a kicked puppy and he had the strongest urge to hold him, to comfort him._

_"I don't know how long she has. Maybe a year more or two, but that really shook the family. It shook me." Alfred continues. His eyes flutter, lashes glittering with kept tears. "I've known her since she was a baby. I've known her father, his father, his father's father. I've been a godfather to generations of'em and I have to watch them all die."_

_"Al..." Matthias loses his volume and freezes, not knowing if he should pat him in the back, joke, hug. "It's..it's a burden we have to bear."_

_"I know. It's just that I've been through this so many times and every time..." he cranes his neck back and tries to keep the tears at bay. He sniffles back his runny nose and tries to rub his eyes dry but he was already hiccuping. "...I break. I'm not used to it."_

_"Better than feeling nothing if ya ask me." Mat sinks to the stool and clasps his hands together in thought. It's silent for five minutes but Alfred was seating beside him, close enough for their shoulders to touch but nothing more._

_"Better than feeling nothing," Alfred repeats as if still in the reverie of thought._

_"Ya know, with what we are and all, people like them is one reason that makes uncertain eternity...nice." Matthias ponders for more words. "We don't know how much time anybody has left. We certainly don't know ours but we know it's gonna be a long wait for the angel of death, so people like them...they help us to live as we are and as them."_

_"We're not freaks, Alfred, we're human." The American still doesn't look at him. "They remind us to cherish the time we have with them; that no matter how hard we convince ourselves, we really don't have a lot of second chances."_

_Matthias closes his eyes and a shuddering breath coldly passes over his lips. "I convinced myself that I would always have time, that I won't lose a chance to be better. I stopped caring about how I spent my time because I thought I had all the time in the world, until I didn't. So I hope you don't sulk all night and soak the food you were making for them with your tears."_

_"It would be a shame to have this big of a feast and be the only two eating." He adds and that's when a small smile graces his handsome face again and his heart skips a beat. That was a really odd feeling. Was he having a heart attack?_

_"Thanks. I knew you'd make me feel better." There it goes again. One more time and he might even ask the man to stop whatever the hell he was doing._

_"So..." Alfred pushes himself off and starts unpacking all the other ingredients he had bought. "Will you help me cook?"_

_His smile was unsure and embarrassed. It makes Matthias cave almost instantly, agreeing with a smile that he felt was far too eager._

_"Ja! Let's make 'em a feast and then you can go to the—"_

_Alfred snorts. "No. We go to them!" He clarifies. "They care about you more than you think. In fact, I wanted you to come over 'cuz their kids keep on asking me when you'll be back..."_

_"...and it's nice to have a real close friend to have around...you could almost say family. So...what do you say?" There was that awkward blush again that seemed so rightly seated on his cheeks._

_Matthias laughs forcefully. Waning, he returns the smile in meekness. He realizes that he has never cared for someone as deeply as Alfred and it wraps him in a inexplicable warmth rather than throw him into the crashing cold of fear. He wants to be there for him._

_" I'd love that."_

**Author's Note:**

> -I have nothing to say but happy holidays!!


End file.
